The Silent Crisis of the Mid-Career Slump for Creatives
By Dan Blank | September 25, 2015 |
This is the phrase that Charlie McDonnell used as the title of a video back in 2012:
“I’m scared”
With more than a million subscribers on YouTube, he was one of the the lucky few who found success online by creating videos about his interests.
Yet, at the top, Charlie was honest. “I’m scared,” he explained in the video. He lost his confidence, he couldn’t create, and when he did, he didn’t like it. He was afraid not just that people wouldn’t like his videos, but that people wouldn’t like him. Even with a million+ subscribers, this fear left him frozen.
There were loads of video responses from other creators on YouTube, in which the common theme was clear:
“We are all scared.”
Many of these other creators were similar to Charlie — they were viewed as successful; had large audiences; did work that mattered deeply to them. Yet, fear about themselves and their work was a regular occurrence.
I think we don’t talk about this enough. How, at mid-career, fear can creep in, grab hold, and trap us.
So we suffer silently. Because at mid-career, you feel like you have something to lose. That is a distinct difference between mid-career and the beginner. When you are just starting out with your creative work, it’s easy to say, “I’m putting it all on the line, what do I have to lose?!”
We talk a lot about the fear of starting. And I’m glad. It’s a critical topic to encourage more people to pursue their creative vision. To become doers, not just dabblers, in their craft.
But at mid-career, you DO feel you have something to lose. This was perhaps the most surprising thing I found when I began researching successful creative professionals for a book I am writing, and it’s something I have experienced myself: the feeling you have the moment after success. It goes something like this:
“WHOA. It worked! My idea actually worked!”
Followed immediately by one or more of the following:
- “How am I going to do this again with the next book, the next project, or in the next year?”
- “It was a fluke. Wait until everyone finds out that I’m a fraud.”
- “People are saying nice things about me. I’m going to mess it up. I’m not that perfect. They’re quickly going to find that out.”
- “Now that people are recognizing me and my work, they are going to now see when I stumble and fall the next time. It’s going to be a very public failure.”
In other words, fear, anxiety, depression, and shame creep in. At a time and place when you didn’t expect it — when you find any modicum of success.
Amanda Palmer called this waiting for the “fraud police” to show up and call you out. Brené Brown has mountains of research and many books and talks that explore this topic more thoroughly than I ever could.
The Other Side of Failure
When you do have a failure mid-career, it can feel like the end. Like the start of an overwhelming downward trend. For instance, let’s say you publish three books that received mild success — enough to garner you another book deal, and some lovely reviews. Then your fourth book tanks.
You receive zero buzz, some middling reviews, and some downright bad reviews. And sales suck.
You begin thinking, “I put two years of my life into this. My entire reputation too. It would have been better if I spent that time doing anything else than to be told that the world doesn’t care, that I’m simply not good enough. Now, everything seems more difficult, just as I was hoping it would elevate me to a whole new level. I’m not even back to where I started, I’m further behind. Because now people see me as a hack.”
I have been watching a wonderful interview series with filmmakers, and found an unbelievable example of this.
Now, if you are at all familiar with Quentin Tarantino, you know his films are bold, and that he is outspoken in real life. There are loads of people who respect his films, but don’t like him as a person because he is so bold. He gives the impression of being unafraid.
His sixth film, Death Proof, was a failure. It earned far less money than his previous films, and was less favorably reviewed. I have to say, it’s the only one of his films I haven’t seen.
No big deal, right? Everyone has a bad day, and even his “failure” wasn’t all that bad. Sure it lost money, but lots of films do. Sure, it had only a 67% Rotten Tomatoes score, but that’s still not horrible.
Yet, in a recent interview with Robert Rodriquez, Quentin admits that with the failure of Death Proof, he felt his film career was over.
“It did shake me to think I may never have a hit again. When you have a big flop, you can’t ever imagine having a hit again. [The audience] will never show up again. I felt like my girlfriend had just broken up with me, except my girlfriend was the planet earth.”
After awhile, a friend of his said something to him that prompted him to reconsider. He thought to himself, “Let me try, one… more… time.”
Can you imagine that? Someone who is widely considered to be one of the most influential filmmakers of all time, feeling that he was done, and then he had to psych himself into feeling he will try one final time?
What followed was Inglourious Basterds, followed by Django Unchained. Each earned more than $300 million, and were critically acclaimed.
Fear is a pervasive part not just of the creative process, but the lifestyle of a creative person.
There is a big distinction here:
- The work. To do meaningful work, you have to push yourself beyond the confines of what is expected.
- The person. To do meaningful work, you have to put yourself out there, and that can be filled with anxiety, fear, depression, and feelings of shame.
This is perhaps best seen in the now legendary example of filmmaker Francis Ford Coppola making his movie Apocalypse Now.
Francis had early success as a filmmaker, both within the system and with audiences. His earlier movies were box office successes, and critically acclaimed. I mean, before Apocolypse Now, he worked on:
- Patton
- The Godfather
- The Conversation
- American Graffiti
- The Godfather Part 2
Yet, he describes the experience of making Apocalypse Now as follows:
“I was sad and depressed and with the financial side, I was scared.”
Why was he scared financially? Because he was personally responsible for the $30 million budget, at an interest rate that crept up to 22%.
Can you imagine having that hang over your head, on top of being sad and depressed otherwise? As the making of the film dragged on, the world mocked him for being over budget and behind schedule.
The film is now commonly listed as one of the greatest ever made.
This type of thing comes right back down to the work that we each do everyday in 2015. I’ve been obsessively listening to Elise Blaha Cripe’s podcast, Elise Gets Crafty, where she talks about the intersection of craft and business. In a podcast about fear (episode 49), she sums it up this way:
“Each time I branch out… that has been scary. But each time, I have grown.”
Pushing creative boundaries without deep personal anxiety
It can be tricky to separate the fear of the work from the fear of one’s identity and self-worth.
I find that listening to other creative professionals in interviews helps put things in perspective. For instance, this wonderful interview with graphic designer Marta Cerdá, who experienced fear and doubt, yet found productive ways to continue moving forward:
Q: Do you ever feel secure as a freelancer? Is it getting easier?
A: No! Never! [Laughs] I have different problems than when I began, but they are still problems. A year and a half ago, I was worried I was losing the energy I had in the beginning of my career. The more worried I was, the worse I felt. Then I just said to myself, “I don’t care. My life is bigger than my work.” As soon as I allowed myself not to care, the work got better. Being a graphic designer is a profession, but it reflects whom you are and how you are feeling at the time. Humans change constantly and that reflects how you see the work. I still have moments where I think, “I’m no good anymore!”Q: Were there times when making the leap to freelance life that you thought you weren’t going to make it?
A: This winter, actually. I had three entire months without work. But I took that time to learn 3D, and that made me happy.
Here is another example from Amber Naslund… someone who had success in her career, branched out on her own, but then hit a mid-career slump. She frames it this way:
“Failure. Man, does it hurt. In so many ways. It’s actually really hard to put into words how devastating it can be.”
Amber goes on to list out the ways… financially, personally, professionally, and health-wise. She sums up:
“In a nutshell, three years after my bright-eyed dive into this future, I was broken. In all aspects of the word”
The post is framed post-fallout, when she has now “found her groove” again.
The first step to solve for a slump is not a hack, but a conversation
I mentioned Brené Brown earlier, and it is worth noting that her new book, Rising Strong, is entirely about picking oneself up from failure. It’s worth checking out.
In the past, I have shared other reflections on these topics:
- The Risk and Reward of Putting Yourself Out There
- Shame and Your Writing Career
- Are You Scared? Fear and the Creative Process
And it is a topic I have been in the trenches with in a course I run called Fearless Work. I’m not trying to promote it here (hence, no link), but I have found that these topics lay just under the surface for many creative professionals. The best part of working with folks in the course and outside of it, is realizing how these big overwhelming things can be addressed effectively if you begin to talk to others about it. So I’m going to encourage that here…
I would love to know: How have you observed how anxiety and fear can creep in at mid-career? What has been most surprising about it?
Thanks.
-Dan
Dan Blank is the founder of WeGrowMedia, where he helps writers share their stories and connect with readers. He has helped hundreds of authors via online courses, events, consulting, and workshops, and worked with amazing publishing houses and organizations who support writers such as Random House, Workman Publishing, Abrams Books, Writers House, The Kenyon Review, Writer’s Digest, Library Journal, and many others.
Dan, thanks for this excellent discussion about a topic we don’t talk enough about. I deal with fear and anxiety all the time. When we discuss fear, we have to realize that it has several dimensions–at least for me. One, I never think my work is good enough, or, more accurately, I always think it could be better. The way I deal with that is that I have to let others (beta critics and my editor) be the judge of my work. So there is that type of fear. Another type of fear is when we convince ourselves the creative well is dry. I have had long periods where I could not come up with a new idea for a novel, or I could not solve a vexing story problem in my WIP. The trick, I’ve found, is to keep reading, engage with other writers, and pay attention to what’s going on around me. Ideas will percolate. Third, there is also the fear that I don’t measure up against other writers. This is a game a writer cannot win because there is always going to be a better writer. I can only compare myself to me (if that makes any sense). I can only be the best writer I am capable of being. I applaud you for writing about fear because it is only by confronting our fears that we can overcome them.
Thank you SO MUCH for providing this context, and the ways you work through your own challenges. This is enormously helpful.
-Dan
Hi Dan, So great to open my mailbox at 7 am and read your pieces. My experience is that fear can linger behind or around any time-yes at mid career, and yes any time I take a turn in the road, or even keep doing what I have been doing for a while. There is a voice inside that queries “Is this painting an improvement on the last one?” “How can I make it better or different from the last one?” “Now that I didn’t make the trip to Montana last month, what is the direction of my work?” How I am going to integrate my family history/genealogy writing with my painting and assemblage making? and how does that fit in with recording my dreams and analyzing them?And how are we doing learning how to budget for retirement at an unknown age, on the uneven income of two artists, one of whom gets unexpected royalty income. and yes how can I listen to all these concerns and integrate them into my work. I can write the dreams, I can paint the emotions underneath the concerns. I can laugh about how much of our income is unexpected. I can learn to acknowledge something in me that is quick to judge and demand more and find ways of integrating all these feelings as part of the everyday work of being a creative person.
Judy
Thank you Judy!
Dan,
This post caught my attention before anything else this morning (well, I read it first in your newsletter, and every line jumped out at me!).
I can’t relate to a mid-career crisis, but I can relate to the other aspect you touch on of fear. Boy what a time of fear this has been for me as I push out into a big unknown and risk embarrassing myself to everyone I know daily.
Putting myself out there above and beyond what is expected… As you know, I am presently trying a Kickstarter based publisher, Inkshares, for my novel Blood Dawn. When I joined your course, Get Read, I was stuck for ideas and wondering if it was even a viable option. Yet, unlike Kickstarter, Inkshares continues to appeal to me because it offers successful campaigns a high-quality print production with distribution. What was most important to me was that I saw the opportunity, in the year it would take me to get Blood Dawn polished enough to submit to an agent, to engage actively with readers and build a fan base. Success or fail on Inkshares, that’s success in the big picture for me.
I took away some good points from Get Read, and that gave me some tools for the “going above and beyond” category. My first assessment? Inkshares is an archipelago. There are thousands of prospective book projects, and these authors do not connect. My startup idea: back projects I like and go beyond: hunt down where this author is online and connect, offer to help. I did that, kept doing that, and then one of the authors (someone who already had a successful book in production) set up a Goodreads group where we could discuss co-promotion. That idea then snowballed; the group has now more than 200 members, and even now I still hunt down authors and link them in. I am involved in numerous co-promotion strategies (the latest of which was a joint coloring book between 11 authors to share free with our backers as a thank you). Further, I started a blog series called World Builders, which was intended to only be once a week, but the overwhelming demand convinced me to make it 3 times a week. I am already booked into December.
So wow, this has got me busy! And it doesn’t stop there, because I am really a nobody, and the only way to reverse that is in my mind to work relentlessly and creatively to counter that. I’m planning two new related spin off series branded toward epic fantasy authors on my blog. Right now I’m working with another copromotion group of authors to set up an Inkshares collection so that we can tackle Wattpad and create a collective brand with which we’ll design promotional bookmarks for broad distribution. We’ve even got the Inkshares staff on board helping us because they love what we’re doing.
And all this started when I said I needed to connect these individual authors. It’s one thing that now has taken over my life, like an airplane taxiing and revving up its engines. Which brings me to your second point:
Facing overwhelming fear and anxiety that comes from exposure.
Now that this is started, everyone I know knows what I’m doing, and with all the efforts I’m encountering so many people who are coming to see my book. I’ve showed almost all my friends my Inkshares page. I have a trailer that I made with some help. One of the Inksares authors, as a thank you for my hard work, made me a better cover. One of the other authors made me a Dragon logo. Another author, much to my humbled surprise, recorded the first chapter of Blood Dawn and put it up on YouTube for people to listen to. So, I have a pretty great page for people to land on, right? It’s not just a case of Narcissus looking in the pond. But…I have to reach 2,500 pre-orders and presently I’m at 184. I send friends to check it out and I’m afraid they’re going to judge me, or think I’m just “one of those self-publishers” when they see the page and say “what the hell is this?” (Or worse, say nothing and leave me wondering if they’re judging me). The other thing: my newsletter continues to get subscribers. I’m now over 40. This is because I personally thank every backer and invite them to join up. Now, once a month, I share a new chapter of Blood Dawn — and it’s of my draft — but even though I have a disclaimer stating that this draft will change with the intensive revision to come when I’m complete, I still feel like I’m making a fool of myself; like I’d be better off doing what writers SHOULD be doing and not showing a thing to a soul until I’ve got a solid, polished manuscript which I can’t make any better.
I’m a perfectionist in every sense of the word. I freak when I spot a typo on a comment (I’m sure there are many today since I’m typing this on my phone). And somehow I’m sharing my draft with readers which is reasonably polished because of the coaching program I’m part of, but still…it’s not perfect!
Yet there’s no other way to do if, I think. I opted for this and I see the immense value in connecting with readers. And you know what? Despite all those fears, I get, almost daily now, fan emails from people who have read the opening of Blood Dawn and tell me they can’t wait to see it published. I’ve had people buy 7 copies instead of 1 because they really really want this book to get funded and want to share it with their friends. Someone — one of the contest winning Inkshares authors — actually called Blood Dawn the next Lord of the Rings (but I think he was just trying to flatter me).
Fear is a very real force, I think, but at the same time, it’s a bit of a mirage. I love your example of Tarantino — since it shows that no matter how successful we are we still are so self-conscious. My best approach, which I use now and will continue to use even if I hit that dreaded mid-career slump, is to just go forward, do do do. I am driven by passion and zeal and belief in what I stand for; ever since I decided to live for this, it has done so much, so why stop? Failure, I think is circumstantial and temporal, an obstacle, and like any writer, I believe that an obstacle, with a solid drive and desire, is an opportunity for change, and growth, and discover.
Wow – thank you John!
At one point in this article you nail my current situation – first three books critically well received and sold pretty well, movie adaptation on the way, burgeoning reputation. Off the back of that I secured an intimidatingly big advance on my next three books. I was *flying*. I’d paid my dues. I’d finally I’d made it. The plan had actually worked. Unimaginable.
And then book four did *nothing*.
Cue massive crisis of confidence that crippled me almost completely. I felt like a total fraud who’d conned his way into a big advance. I felt awfully guilty about failing to deliver for my editor, who’d really stuck their neck out to sign me. I honestly think I would have crawled away and given up if I hadn’t been contract-bound to deliver two more.
Picking myself up from this and writing book five was the most painful, tortuous experience of my entire creative life. I missed a deadline for the first time in my career, then I missed the new deadline as well, which only fuelled the imposter syndrome.
Now, with book five delivered but not yet published, I’m starring down the barrel of book six and I get cold sweats just thinking about it. I know the only way to conquer this feeling is to write my way out of it. I know I can and will beat the fear, the imposter syndrome etc. But knowing I *can* beat it doesn’t make the day to day struggle to actually do so much easier.
Thank you!
Good stuff here Dan – thanks for sharing. Keep up the inspirational work.
-Ian
Thanks Ian!
Dan, this is a terrific piece. In my 25 year career, I’ve hit more than one of those slumps, where I doubted everything and wondered how I could keep going–and yet, here I am, still writing for a living. Thanks for addressing a topic that’s rarely discussed.
Thank you Barbara!
Dan-
The mid-career crisis is well known to me in my work as literary agent. At some point it hits everyone. It frequently leads to deflected blame and bad decisions. Authors who succumb often do fade and find that their worst fears can come true.
Brave authors recognize the fear for what it is. Creative ones use it. Fear is a craft tool. It points right at what matters, both in self and in story. It tells authors what they most need to work on. It opens new dimensions of characters.
I have come to believe that fear is not just a natural byproduct of mid-career dynamics, it is a desirable and necessary state. Think of it this way: What’s worse than feeling fear?
Not feeling it.
Nice post, Dan. I’m back from my journey so let’s have that beer sometime, okay?
“What’s worse than feeling fear?
Not feeling it.”
This reminds me of the theatre. Beware the actor who isn’t fearful when they take the stage; their performance will be lacking. Fear is a unique sort of fuel — a package of goalpost and motivation, because you can envision what it might be like to fail utterly and at the same time you know the energy it takes to succeed.
Great post, Dan.
Thank you Therese. That is exactly why I obsessively watch/listen to interviews with performers and creatives of all types. Jerry Seinfeld made mention in an interview that in his career, he is never comfortable before going on stage. Powerful thing to consider for those who have not yet attained his level of success.
Thanks!
-Dan
Don,
I LOVE this: “Fear is a craft tool.” We should have t-shirts made: “FEAR IS A TOOL.” Yes, a beer would be awesome!
Thank you.
-Dan
Dan, not only is this a wonderful post, I commend you for being so brave. Talking about fear isn’t an easy task. Kudos to you for exposing our fears and doubts. They make us human.
I am often quite baffled by the confidence people think I have. Inside I’m this quaking shadow, making my way through a fog of doubt. If I analyse why people have this impression, I suppose it’s because I don’t let the fear consume me entirely. I put it in it’s place. Sometimes I even respect it, the fear, for it allows me to tread carefully, think long and hard, and consider my mistakes. Fear and doubt, I think, are products of our conscious thought. And we are lucky to have these tools at our disposal.
When all else fails, I look to my favorite quote:
“Fear is just excitement in need of an attitude adjustment.”
Great post, Dan. Thanks.
Dee Willson
Author of A Keeper’s Truth and GOT
That’s a great quote. Thank you!!!
-Dan
Wow, did I need this today. Mostly, I’m an optimist. When I am afraid of failing books and audiences, I meditate; I bathe myself in white light, I manifest. This morning, I woke up, depressed, and thought, oh bullshit. It isn’t working. I am confused because sometimes, when I finally let go, and just give up, something positive will happen. Today, your article did. Thank you. Making progress, one pillow at a time.;)
Thank you Deborah!
Awesome post; best ‘before getting up to face the world’ read in bed I’ve had yet. I skipped Seth Godin for this today and I’m inspired in a whole new way! thank you
Thank you Monica!
Hi, Dan:
Been there, done that. (In other words: You nailed it.)
When my third book didn’t win the Edgar, the fourth book all but vanished. I was later told by two highly respected NY editors: “When you went to Central America, you killed your career.” (I was also told the skinny on me within my publishing house was the I was “too male.”)
I tried scripts (none produced), a comic novel (utter failure), then decided to put my teaching into a writing guide and The Art of Character was born.
This began a slight — but discernible — upswing that gave me a new “platform” (God but I hate the jargon) and I devoted myself to a new novel.
No one wanted it. Parted ways with my agent who acknowledged her contacts weren’t perhaps the best fit for my work. I rewrote the book. Tried with a new agent who gently explained that the earlier attempt to publish the work, even with a different title and despite the major overhaul, had nixed any chance with NY houses.
On my own I went to Thomas & Mercer (Amazon), who accepted the book. Enthusiastically. It’s received modest success — my fan base has been gracious and has expanded a bit, but those expecting a standard mystery are disappointed and aren’t remiss about saying so (note: I have never written standard mysteries) and for the first time in my career I have earned out. A follow-up novella has done rather nicely, given the modest expectations.
I have a new agent and we have a realistic but still aggressive plan.
All of which is to say I learned the only solution to fear is courage, and courage quite often takes the form of simple perseverance. Now, perseverance in pursuit of a delusion is folly, and one has to be brutally honest with oneself as well. And to heal the bruises of honesty, one must be forgiving.
These three virtues — courage, honest, forgiveness — have guided me through not only my professional darkest hour but my personal one (the death of my wife). It is the one aspect of existence where I have successfully managed to “keep it simple.”
Final note: Adding to the terrors of mid-life uncertainty is the persistent sound of younger writers howling for their own glory, nipping at your heals. They, as you acknowledge, are fearless.
Ain’t life grand?
Wonderful post, and best of luck on the coaching of those who find their faith in themselves and their will to persevere wavering.
David
David,
Wow, thank you for digging into this with so much context! Really helps.
-Dan
I love that you included Marta Cerda’s story as a freelancer in here, because it pertains to me personally. I have been a freelancer for more than a decade, and any week that I am less busy, I am immediately struck with fear that this is the wind-down. This leads to even more stress, because my freelance work enables me to do my creative writing work, and I am far less creative when I am stewing over these kinds of things.
What I should do is use the down times to bolster time spent on my creative writing projects. I need to balance the scales in my head, even when they are not balanced the way I would like them to be in my everyday life.
Thanks for a great post!
Thank you so much!
I wish that more of this article was actually about writing.
Noted. Thanks for the feedback!
-Dan
Thank you for addressing a topic which often isn’t raised. Fear and anxiety arises not only for creatives. If we live by a success/failure paradigm, rather than a learning paradigm, we will all experience what you so aptly describe. “I’m not good enough” comes from an inner critic. If we feel good about ourselves inside, even if we lose money, only sell 20 books or our business goes under, of course we will feel disappointed and question what we did for a while.
However, the ‘what did I learn?’ question can help us pull ourself together and start anew. Sometimes our deepest “failures” can really tranform us and point us in a new and sometimes, totally unexpected direction.
Sherry,
I love that perspective. Thank you!
-Dan
Hi Dan,
I’m still in the “pre-career” stage, so I can’t comment on mid-career issues, but one thing that struck me while I was reading your post is how many of the creatives you referenced equate their professional success with their personal worth. “People are saying nice things about me.” “I felt like my girlfriend had just broken up with me.” “Wait until everyone finds out that I’m a fraud.”
Since writers and other artists put so much of themselves into their work, a poor reception of their products can feel like personal rejection. It’s understandable, but it’s also irrational. The success or failure of a book, movie, or other creative product is rarely due to the artist’s skill. A novel might rocket to the top of the bestseller lists because its genre or theme happens to be “hot,” or it might languish on the shelves because it has a lackluster title and outmoded cover art. Many books don’t sell well at first, but they catch on after they’ve been out for a while, or after their authors re-brand and re-release them a few years down the line.
Of course the book might also flop because it’s truly terrible, but if that’s the case…so what? It doesn’t mean you’re a talentless hack and should never try to write again. I mean, last week I set fire to a batch of chicken stir fry, but that doesn’t mean I’m a terrible cook and should never attempt to feed myself again. It just means I had to choke down one burnt (let’s say “chargrilled”) meal and do better the next time.
I agree, and yes, this is a very common theme. I would actually venture to say that it extends well beyond creative fields as well. An accountant feels as much pride for their skills as any creative, and when rejected, can question everything about who THEY are, even when it was only their WORK that was questioned.
Thank you!
-Dan
HI Dan,
Great post.
My biggest fear at mid-career is that I won’t be able to evolve fast enough to stay relevant. There is now so much more to learn and read and know–and it just keeps coming faster and faster. I may be booked through the end of the year today, but there is no guarantee that by January 2, 2016 I’m not going to be a dinosaur. And even if next year goes well, how many years do I have left.
The good news is that my fear drives me to keep on my toes and keep learning.
Lisa
Thank you Lisa!